


Aradia: explore.

by tawnyPort



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Mutilation, Needles, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:08:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tawnyPort/pseuds/tawnyPort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CT: D--> i bring him here<br/>CT: D--> say i break him<br/>CT: D--> he's into that<br/>CT: D--> sweating for it<br/>CT: D--> call me all names<br/>CT: D--> so<br/>CT: D--> i break him</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aradia: explore.

It takes you a moment to get your bearings but the landscape—a sky so impenetrably dark that you're not sure there's even a sky there are all, stony ground and outcroppings in every shade from slate to nearly indigo as far as the ocular globes can scan and pockmarked with cave openings—gives you a good indication of where you are. Gloomy sky. Rock that won't protest if damaged by STRONG attacks. B100 everywhere. So this is Equius' land.

Once he left it to bring you your soulbot Equius never returned to his own planet, preferring to stay in LOQAM and help you complete your quests there, so you've never actually been to your client player's world. If you thought about it you'd be surprised your adventuring through the dream bubbles hasn't brought you to an iteration of LOCAS sooner but you suppose it's entirely possible some cosmic force was keeping you from it. You're not going to think about it, though. Things have been so much simpler for you since you came back to life. Becoming an immortal time fairy god has really put a lot of things into perspective and the perspective is that a lot of things really don't matter. 

Like the things that go down between people. It's not that people don't matter or that the relationships you have with them, whether positive or creepy, don't matter, but you have the rest of the existence of this universe ahead of you. What's the point in staying weirded out by Equius or angry at Vriska or even sighing with pale pity for Sollux? It happens in a moment and it's over in a moment. That's part of what makes visiting these memories so interesting to you. They were really only like this for a moment but the mechanics of the bubbles makes that moment an eternal little world unto itself. 

How cool is that? 

The only thing immediately visible is Equius' hive so it's the logical destination. You never really had a chance to look around it. You never really wanted to, truth be told, but now that it can be upgraded from, “dwelling of the sweaty troll who makes robots and weird passes at you,” to, “ruined dwelling in an abandoned memory of a planet that doesn't even exist anymore,” it's far more interesting.

You floatfly to the gaping hole in the side where one of the towers detached just before you pulled his hive into the Medium and that's when you realize what's been so odd since you got here. Your feet touch down and there's no scratching as they meet the grit and rubble on the floor. You flap your wings and there's no soft rustle of air. You experimentally clap your hands. Nothing. It doesn't feel like the vacuum of space so you're not sure what could be causing this basic physical principle—sound is waves, make the waves, hear the sound—to fail but it's disconcerting. You can see how why Equius might not want to stay here, soulbots and moirails aside.

Downright spooky.

You move further into the hive.

The dim gentian light coming in through the blue windows makes the space feel like a thermal hull and makes it virtually impossible to see. As your eyes adjust you're able to pick out some details but much of the hive remains a dark navy blur. The air is stuffy, smelling of dampness, stale salt sweat, and a trace of spoiled milk, a profoundly unpleasant combination. 

Equius predictably took all his design cues from the architecture of famous highblood hives. The entire dwelling appears to be constructed from massive blocks of smooth dark grey stone. You drag your fingers over a wall and they come back damp, the moisture in the air having condensed on the cold stone. The fact that even his hive is sweating makes you laugh but only for a moment. You can feel the air leaving your lungs, feel the vibration of your vocal cords, but even that makes no sound.

You stop under one of the massive featureless archways and try to speak. Your mouth and tongue move, you click your teeth together, but not even the meat of your body carries the sound. You spend several more minutes experimenting with as many of your body's sounds as you can think of. Your joints crack, your aural sponges pop, you swallow, blink, breathe. Nothing.

You are baffled.

This is _awesome_.

So this planet has a weird feature to it. Sollux's planet was made of literal brains and fire, complete nightmare fuel (considering your moirail's problems this never really surprised you) and you didn't bail on having a look around there. Besides, everything about Equius is kind of off. You weren't exactly expecting a warm fireside and a comforting display of skulls and artifacts.

Well. Maybe the skulls.

You keep exploring, taking stairs downward at every available opportunity. If your explorations when you were on Alternia showed you one thing it was that people kept the best, most telling things in the basement and there's no reason for Equius to be any different. Sure, there may be (splintered) side tables and paintings of musclebeasts (in crooked frames) visible in the more public parts of his hive, but the real Equius is guaranteed to be somewhere lower and more private.

There's a tangible change in the air when you finally descend below ground. The walls are still stony, the dull sandy color of the cliffs where he and Vriska both built their hives, but they look more carved than built and you wonder if his lusus did this or if this is a project Equius took on for himself. You can see him doing that, grinding into the foundations of his hive just to have a deeper place to hide the things he didn't want anybody else to know about, all the while convincing himself that it only made sense because a space beaten into the actual rock of Alternia would be more capable of withstanding the impact of his bizarre interests. Keeping secrets and telling himself it was for the good of everyone. Equius in a nutshell, really.

Torches flicker every few yards to compensate for the lack of natural light. Between the warming effect of the fire and the color of the walls, you find the basement immediately more likeable than any other part of the hive. The corridor is scored deeply but the marks look new and a glance at the floor confirms that; there's a small amount of dust and rock chips at the base of the wall. The marks don't look violent enough to have been made by pursuing underlings, though. It's almost like someone dragged a chisel with them as they walked. Does that mean you're not the only one here? 

Someone got here ahead of you with no qualms about defacing the walls of a notoriously STRONG, notoriously casteist highblood? And they might be armed?

You hope they're still here. You really want to meet them.

You're optimistic as you reach the end of the corridor and enter the huge main room of Equius' basement. The ceilings are distant enough that you could probably fly in here without much discomfort and the troll-made cave has enough room for several different areas. You can see Equius' workshop, discarded pieces of robots littering the area around it, the computers there casting a faint electronic glow but only from his screen saver—oh look, more pictures of musclebeasts. Looking gladly away from that, you see a considerable exercise area and then a structure built of wire like a huge cage.

There's movement inside.

You figure the safest approach is to fly. If you can't hear whatever's in there then it can't hear you either and if you stay high you'll likely be out of sight. Element of surprise and all that. You can have a look and abscond if you need to (though the chances of finding something that could kill you for good in here seem pretty low!). You drift slowly over and up to the top of the cage, peering in.

What.

There are two people inside. Equius, as you probably should have expected, and a figure you recognize instantly even though she's let her hair down and put on what passes for a more modest skirt where she's concerned.

Hello Damara.

You're not sure what to make of the scene before you. It's obvious up close from the way the cage is warped and bent and from the robocarnage against the walls that Equius fought his robots in here but that's not what you see. You see him chained to the cage itself and Damara standing in front of him, her back to you. He's shirtless and his head is hanging, thick black hair sticking to his neck and hiding his face. His glasses are at his feet and as you watch a drop of navy blood falls next to them. He's bleeding. You weren't even sure that was possible. Looking closer you see there's familiar rust blood on the floor as well. Were they fighting? Did he lose? Did he win and this is the prize?

Your lip curls almost involuntarily at the thought and in that moment he raises his head and his entire expression changes. His bloodied lips drop apart and his drooping eyelids lift. You've been spotted. You start to shake your head but it's too late. Of course you don't hear anything but you see his mouth moving.

_Aradia._

Damara turns to face you, crossing her arms, and you see now what made the marks on the corridor as you came down. The Quills of Echidna jut out from her fists. Her expression is one of impatience but her dead white eyes narrow momentarily then she raises one hand and gestures toward the cage floor with the needle. Her lips move but you can only assume it's East Alternian since none of the shapes make sense. The intent, however, is clear.

_Get down here._

So you get down there.

Up close you observe that whatever happened between them, Damara didn't take the worst of it. She's got a small cut above one eye and a gash on her wrist that looks old but is otherwise unscathed. Equius, however, is bleeding from a pair of punctures as well as from his mouth; they're in his armpits and the blood is running down his sides, soaking his already dark stockings, so you don't feel excessively bad for not noticing it sooner. He looks horrified when your feet touch down, his mouth moving rapidly and his head shaking. A glance from Damara stills his mouth but his eyes still flick between the two of you.

As for Damara, she's circling you, the Quills spinning in her fingers like drumsticks. Like she's familiar with handling them. Adept at it. With her hair down you're surprised at how much she looks like you. Her hair is a dense, straight, well cared for black sheet unlike your untamed waves and layers—haircuts are a highblood luxury and you simply didn't care—and her makeup is sharper, definitely more East Alternian influenced, but otherwise the resemblance is uncanny. You figure that probably explains what Equius is doing with her down here, why he's allowed her to chain him up like that. You turn in place, keeping your eyes on Damara, but when you look back at Equius you just shake your head and sigh. 

He immediately starts to shake his head again, his torso thrashing against the cage but his arms barely moving, only flicking at the wrists. You realize he built the cage with the intent of it being able to withstand his STRONG fighting but surely the chains would break if he was putting any real effort into what he was doing. The sheen of sweat on him as he struggles is frankly disgusting and you step back away from him as a few drops spatter forward. The movement changes his reaction to frantic nodding.

_Yes. Go! Go!_

Yeah, you have to agree with him. Whatever's going on here is incontrovertibly none of your business, so you bust out your music boxes for a quick escape. You turn the cylinder and wait for the scene to snap to the blackness that indicates your time travel has started but nothing happens. Damara's lips curl into a cruel and indulgent smirk and she makes a little shooing motion with her hand. You try again and get the same result. One more attempt, this time turning in the other direction, playing the song backwards, but you're still there. Damara lifts one of the Quills and points to her ear then slowly shakes her head as she makes an exaggerated pout at you.

No sound means no music. No music means the music boxes don't work.

Looks like you're here for the duration.

You shrug and will your wings away. You really like them but you figure that's the best non-verbal cue you can give that this pain and pail party has just gained an audience. Not a participant, thanks. You shrug at Damara and take a couple steps closer to both of them, inclining your head forward with a little tilt. Your best curious barkbeast impression.

Damara spends a long moment with her eyes narrowed, then shrugs, smirks, and you see something else moving out of the corner of your eye. A keyboard is drifting over toward her--huh, you didn't even know she had psionics--and the computer in the corner of the arena is now san musclebeasts and plus one Trollian window. You go over to read the message as she types.

CT: D--> you smart girl  
CT: D--> pretty too  
CT: D--> got it going on  
CT: D--> he break your heart  
CT: D--> literally  
CT: D--> make it wrong  
CT: D--> then he find me  
CT: D--> he leave robot  
CT: D--> i bring him here  
CT: D--> say i break him  
CT: D--> he's into that  
CT: D--> sweating for it  
CT: D--> call me all names  
CT: D--> so  
CT: D--> i break him  


You turn back around and give her your best grimace. Two can play at that game.

AA: what business is it of yours if he hurt me?  
AA: besides, that's old news  
AA: i'm not interested in revenge and this really doesn't concern you!  
AA: don't you have anything better to do?  


Still smirking, she shrugs and wiggles her fingers in front of herself just below her hips.

CT: D--> can't masturbate for all eternity  
CT: D--> and you not interested in revenge  
CT: D--> is some male moobeast leavings  
CT: D--> i hear about you and your serket  
AA: ok first, you're gross  
AA: and that's nothing like this!  
AA: it wasn't me  
CT: D--> you go after her twice  
CT: D--> you should be proud of that  
AA: you have no idea what you're talking about  
AA: it had to happen for a lot of reasons  
AA: this is just pointless violence  
CT: D--> is it?  
CT: D--> i know one thing  
CT: D--> you get revenge for your nitram  
CT: D--> because he's too big a pussy to do himself  
CT: D--> you decide for him  
CT: D--> now i decide for you  


This is frustrating and pointless. With that kind of logic she could justify hurting just about anyone because she didn't think they'd suffered enough yet. Of course for all you know, that's the point.

Still. She's irritating. You roll your eyes and the keyboard explodes with a bright flash of orange and a hail of keys. Equius flinches and you blink for a moment; you'd gotten so involved in dealing with Damara you'd almost forgotten he was there. Oops. You're not interested in talking that way anymore but that doesn't mean you're out of options. A message in thick navy liquid hangs in the air in front of Damara. You're pleased that she looks surprised. Now that's something to be proud of.

_i'm not a pussy._   
_what's your endgame here anyway?_

She takes one fingertip and runs it through the blood on his side, drawing something you can't see. He shudders at the touch on his grub scar but he can only watch her, trying to hold his head up. It's obvious he's exhausted. You wonder how long they've been this already.

She steps back to admire her art and you see what she's done, though it's already smearing and running with his sweat. Tavros' symbol... or Rufioh's. She's probably never even met Tavros but you know, thanks to a decision you later regretted concerning how to spend a particular moment, the entire history of her relationship with Tavros' Beforan counterpart, including how it ended.

Including the role Horuss played and the fact that she killed him for it.

Maybe this isn't pointless to her. Misguided, but not pointless. It has some kind of purpose.

Damara advances on Equius again, hauling his head up by the hair and, as you watch, tying it to the cage in a style vaguely reminiscent of Horuss' high musclebeasttail. Now even the relief of dropping his head is beyond Equius and you see his shoulders sag and his chest collapse with a sigh you cannot hear. His hands flex into fists and out, his thumbs bending up to grip the wire behind him. Damara shakes her head a little as if noticing his hands for the first time, with a flick of her wrist, cuts his gloves away. She tugs them off and tosses them aside. Somehow, moreso than losing his shirt or even his glasses, the exposure of Equius' palms leaves him looking naked. It makes you uncomfortable but at the the same time you don't want to look away.

She takes both Quills in one hand and traces her fingertips over his bared palm, past the chains around his wrists and down his forearm. You're close enough that you can see his skin lighten then flush faintly blue when she uses her claws on him but it's not hard, never hard enough to break his skin. They stop just before the chains supporting his shoulders and drift down to the hole she made. You gag a little and Equius thrashes again as she shoves her finger in to the third knuckle. His throat is working in a scream but it's worthless. You see her twist her hand as she withdraws her finger and nods, evidently satisfied with whatever she found there.

Damara wipes her finger disdainfully on Equius' shoulder then,when it's now less blue but no less wet, again on the waistband of his shorts. She watches him pant in his restraints for a moment then looks up almost inquiringly at you, watching you as you watch them. You wonder at the recursiveness of it but otherwise you don't want to react, don't want to feed her. You can only shake your head at her.

_why?_

She looks almost startled by the word floating in front of her, her lips moving to form the shape of it, then the anger rushes back in. Her focus on Equius is utterly broken and she's storming across the cage. Damara picks up a crushed robot head by the horn and hurls it at you. You easily dodge it but she doesn't throw another, instead pointing at it as it drops, without the anticipated clang, then swinging her arm in a gesture to take in all the broken robots around the arena. It's a telling landscape of wreckage; most of the bodies have the chest caved in, the heads torn in two, and there's not one to be seen that doesn't have a limb torn off. When you look back at her she's scrawling on Equius' chest, the letters elongating even as you read. She flicks her finger at you when she finishes, disdain written all over her face.

we cover this they break things

That's no secret to you. It's no secret to anyone who knows Equius. The guy's a troll shaped wrecking ball. He breaks things on purpose. He breaks them by accident. He breaks them without even realizing it. You don't know Horuss very well but you do know a guy who went to all the trouble of inventing deSTRENGTHening gloves for himself probably faced the same issue. There's one major problem with her logic, though, and you mouth it to her from the relative safety of the roof.

You storm over to them, stooping to pick up Equius' discarded tank top and wipe his chest clean with it then dipping your own finger in the blood on the floor. This is how she wants to conduct this, fine.

_this isn't about him!!!_

You might have been a little too emphatic with your shout poles. Equius cringes under your poking and you try to be more gentle when you wipe your message off. You don't mean to do more harm to him but Damara just won't see basic reason.

As if to drive that home, Damara scoffs and rolls her eyes, shaking her head once, decisively. You can only assume that means it doesn't matter. She finally looks away from you but not at Equius. She's looking for something in the room. You do spare a glance at Equius and he's watching her, his face becoming more and more apprehensive. You only look away when she throws another metal head at you. This one hovers between you and Equius and once again you're confronted with a familiar face. 

It's the head of some version of your soulbot, a prototype, one from another timeline, maybe even an upgraded version. You recognize the blue lips, blue lashes, all the little reminders that he wanted to change you into something you weren't and that he almost succeeded. If he hadn't had such hubris about it you might not have detected it until it was too late.

You wouldn't say he broke you, though, no matter how much she insists on it. If you were ever broken—a claim you dispute because to be broken means to not be how you're supposed to and everything that happened was supposed to happen even if it sucked while it was happening—it was when you were dead. Getting into the soulbot was a horrible experience at first, being programmed for flushed feelings toward Equius, feeling utterly exploited in your gratitude and, well, tearing your own pusher out was no walk in the lawnring, but you weren't broken. You shove the robot's head back down toward her and shake your head right back at her.

She disengages her psionics and lets the head fall among the other pieces, her hands on her hips as though she's interacting with a petulant wiggler. She gestures to herself then up at you. No words needed this time.

_Same._

Oh, absolutely not. You scowl and use your psionics to fling a torso at her. She blocks it with a shield of her own and smiles at you, shrugging one shoulder as though you've proven her point.

Have you?

The implication that you might is enough to keep you from throwing another one but that doesn't mean you agree with her on any count. 

She seems to accurately interpret your lack of response and seizes the opportunity to drive the point home. The blood on the floor is mostly dry now so she shoves her finger roughly into Equius' mouth. You root for him to bite her. You're not surprised when he doesn't.

you could leave but no

She extends a hand to you impatiently then, when you don't react, rolls her eyes and points to the tank top still in your hand.

Oh. That makes sense.

You hand her the shirt and she wipes her writing surface clean.

you want to see what happens

Wipe wipe.

when he breaks

She stares at you hard enough that you finally nod. She's not entirely wrong. You know no permanent harm is going to come to him from this. He's already dead and she's not powerful enough to kill him again, so this is just a moment and eventually it'll pass for him. In the meantime, you are kind of curious to see just where she's going with this. It's not what she's doing you're uncomfortable with, just that you disagree with her motives.

That's not enough to make you stop her, though.

For her part, Damara seems to be done trying to explain herself to you and she turns back to Equius. She lifts one Quill and, with no preamble, uses the tip to cut into his arm just above his elbow. Blood gushes to the floor for a moment but apparently the Quills can still act as needles; with one deft motion she's tied off whatever vessel she severed and while he continues to bleed it slows to a trickle. Equius's head is turned as far away as possible, his teeth buried into his opposite shoulder. Watery blue tears mix with the sweat on his face and the blood from the bite wound in a thin stream that drips steadily, silently, onto the ground.

You edge in closer, trying to see what she's doing. Eternity must have given her loads of time to study anatomy. She's very confident in what she's doing.

Damara's head is tilted in concentration and you see her go in with a claw again. Equius nearly tears a chunk out of his own shoulder as his head snaps up and when you look at his other arm the muscle is bunched in an awkward lump under his skin. His forearm looks utterly useless now, hanging all wrong in the restraints, and his face is terrifying. He has literally bitten through his lip, the flap of flesh held on only by the gaps where his teeth are missing, and blood is pouring down his chin. It's horrifying. Equius was the poster boy for restraint when others could see him; he'd never consent to something like this, a display in this fashion. No matter what weird kinks he may have, that is not the face of a troll who is enjoying this. 

The words are thinner this time because the blood is fresh but you make sure he can see them.

_she can't really break you_ _this won't last forever_ _and it could be worse_ _think how much more it'd hurt if she was bad at it!_

He looks past the words and meets your eyes, his features heavy with pain and something else. He's trying to speak. Reading his lips is virtually impossible between the blood and the mangled shape of his mouth but you're able to make the phrase out.

_I'm sorry._

You nod, of course, he'd apologized before and as far as you were concerned it was water under the bridge, but Damara sees what he says and her face splits in a wicked grin. She points to him, the Quills instantly in her hands again.

_SEE!?_

She's clearly taking his apology as an admittance of guilt and therefore reason to augment her intensity. She whips across and severs something in his other elbow until his arms match, both biceps mounded and deformed. Damara leaves the blood pulsing freely this time. Equius gags and drools, the blood from his mouth running renewed. 

not so strong now

As you watch she wipes her finger clean again then slices into his hand, starting between his first and second fingers. The needle hitches a little but with a jerk she gets it through and from there the wickedly sharp point of the Quill glides smoothly through his hand. Stroke after stroke she cuts, the tiny tip of the needle making the process achingly slow as she cuts deeper and and deeper into the interossial muscles, ignoring the blood until it makes her grip too slippery then wiping it thoughtlessly on her dress. She's so into what she's doing that she's not even bothering with the tank top anymore.

You can only imagine how much blood that dress must have seen to be treated so casually.

Equius is openly screaming now but only as long as he can remain conscious. You watch, your gaze switching from his tormented expression to the delicate and depraved work of Damara's hands and needles, and you're relieved when he finally passes out. From pain or shock or blood loss, you have no idea, but you're glad he can get even a modicum of relief in unconsciousness. It doesn't last. 

As soon as she sees his head leaning forward, scalp straining against the tie on his hair, Damara slaps him roughly until he comes to. With the increasingly maddening lack of sound you'd think it was all a play were it not for the sticky blue handprints on the side of his face. His eyes bulge when he wakes, his chest ballooning as he gasps for air. She puts one needle under his chin, forcing his head up and back, then turns to look at you.

His arm is hanging limp and useless, one of the hands he used to craft your soulbot, Vriska's arm, Tavros's legs, and quite possibly even Nepeta's entire spine dangling shredded. His fingers look like ivy that has overgrown the limb of its host and now trails loose but still connected. The floor is a puddle of shining blue blood. You know from personal experience that the dead can be wounded and can even die but you're pretty sure she doesn't want to kill him. You drag your thumb across your throat, eyesbrows lifted inquiringly, and she shakes her head.

we have deal  
he not die  
again  


You know she can't read your mind so again you're forced to contemplate the similarities between you and Damara. Of course it's no great leap to assume that seeing your... Equius... bloodied and shivering and gasping and in pieces that you'd be concerned for him. You hadn't bought her line about being broken so she must understand you won't just let him go, but there's more to it than just whether he'll die or not. You narrow your eyes and wait for her to continue.

A beige dust sheet flaps mutely to the ground between you and Damara and you turn your head, the only part of you still able to move, and look for its origin. A robot with a pair of arrow horns, stiff metal hair, but instead of goggles and buttons, a tank top and a pair of gloves. It's shoved in a dimly lit corner of the cage so you can't make out the details but it's obviously intended to be Equius.

You catch his eye—no easy task considering he's still slipping in and out of awareness—and furrow your brows. He shakes his head with what strength he can muster, wincing as that digs his chin down on Damara's needle, and she snorts.

horuss make i steal and fix

You have no idea what that could possibly mean. She doesn't fix things, that is patently obvious. She's a destroyer, a breaker, a damager. She might have been something else before but that's all she is now. You can't imagine ever seeing her as anything else.

She's looking at you but her face is pressed against Equius' cheek in a mockery of pale tenderness. She's even stroking his hair. He's either ignoring her or simply not aware of her presence anymore, though. He's staring at you.

She has to move between you to get his attention back on her but you can see from the side what she says to him.

_Just go in robot and everything will be OK._

He feebly cranes his head, looking past her at you. Is he waiting for permission?

Of course not, you realize with a sickening twist in your stomach. He wants an order. Damara won't give it because she's all right with whatever happens. Keep playing with him or watch him go into Horuss' machine, either way she gets what she wants. He won't go himself because he's Equius and he's absurd and immutable and they've made some kind of arrangement that he won't back out of even though he's a blueblood and all they do is doublecross but he's never been very good at that, has he?

This guy. Seriously.

_for god's sake equius do it already_

The relief on his face is palpable as he dissolves into a flash of white light and the robot's eyes begin to glow as it comes online. When your eyes recover from the brightness you see several things happening at once.

Damara takes flight with an ecstatic grin on her face (huh, how about that, she can fly), looking down at the two of you as she goes.

_Congratulations._

You don't bother to consider what that might mean because the last thing you see is Equiusbot shambling forward into the full light of the cage. He's vibrating as he walks, shaking with an emotion you know all too well.

The bags under his eyes are ruddy. The symbol on his chest is a familiar rust. She's put her own blood into the robot body. That's how she "fixed" it.

You see the robot's lips moving but you can't read them, they're moving far too fast and the vibration is making it all a blur. You start trying to push the other robot parts off you but it's extremely slow going and he's shaking so hard you can see bolts threatening to come loose. Horuss is a steamwright; his machine was probably never intended to have to put up with something like this, a complete rejection of the entire construct from within.

His hands go to his horns and he starts to pull, his hurried speech slowed to simply an open-mouthed kind of shock. You watch as he pulls on the horns again and again to no effect. He drags his metallic claws down the sides of his face, the tips barely scoring the smooth steel there.

**SO WEA%.**

You're processing the idea of Equius with the psionics you get from your blood--his hands may be wrecked but he doesn't even need them anymore with that! Or he won't with practice, obviously he's not that great yet--when his eyes start to glow more, the orange tone shifting to a bright red you're also familiar with.

Uh oh.

The air smells of ozone and hot, melting wires. The vibrating turns into a frenzied twitching and his body is wreathed in electric arcs, some of which reach out and zap at you. You can't help but wince, it hurts, but somewhere in his disintegration Equius sees that and it only makes matters worse. For him anyway.

_I only wished to--_

Whatever it was he wished, you're never going to know because his body explodes. You raise your arms to shield yourself, cringing as glowing hot shrapnel scatters around the cage, but apart from some minor abrasions on your forearms, little spots where your pajamas are singed, you're unharmed.

And now completely alone. 

Do you go after Damara? Do you try to figure out where Equius went?

No. What's the point in concerned over the fate of Equius or terrified at the lengths Damara would go to just to break a troll she didn't even know? It happened in a moment and now it's over. Isn't that part of what makes visiting these memories so interesting to you?

On to the next exploration.

**Author's Note:**

> Sure, there's no canon proof Damara has psionics, but there's no proof she doesn't.


End file.
